Welsh War

by Griff Hosker

  “Then we will rid you of them. The money the businesses used to give to them can be used to build new towers and repair walls. The men who will be paid to build the walls will be those in the city who have no employment. As we rode through the streets I saw healthy looking men begging. They can labour for you. A man who is paid to work values himself more than a beggar. Your guilds will all be rewarded. Your craftsmen will be employed in the building work. London will benefit for it will be prosperous.”

  I could see that the idea appealed. “I will have to speak with the rest of the leaders of the guilds but if you can rid us of these gangs then…”

  The King smiled and waved a hand in my direction, “The Earl will begin that this day. Is that not right, Earl?”

  “It will be a pleasure.”

  Ridley knew the alehouse they used as a base and Mordaf and his brother were busy looking for the ways out of the rat holes of the alehouse.

  Serio de Mercer turned and said to the guildsmen, “We have business to discuss, for the Earl of Cleveland will snuff out these villains who plague us.”

  I saw a man rise and head for the rear door. I shouted, “Sir Robert hold that man!”

  The King’s knight raced to apprehend the man. He grabbed him and the man complained, “I have done nothing!”

  “Then why do you flee?” The mayor looked at me in confusion. I explained, “Sir, you did not think that all of your guild masters were working for the common good! You cannot have such gangs operating in your city lest they are receiving information from someone in power. I am wagering that you have tried to stop these gangs before?”

  “Aye lord, but when we reached their dens they were fled.”

  “And there is your reason. That is why we strike with haste. The longer we delay the more likely it is that they will get word of what we intend. I charge you to hold this man until we return. I would have words with him.” The mayor nodded. “Sir Robert, William, leave the standards here. We need to move quickly.”

  My men were already waiting outside. Their shields were on their horses as were their helmets. This would not be like fighting men at arms. Henry Youngblood said, “Ridley the Giant, William of Lincoln and two others are lounging close to their back door. They will find and join Mordaf.”

  “And the hidden passages?”

  “Gruffyd is inside.” He grinned, “He is with a whore. He is spreading your coin around, lord.”

  My men knew their business, even business such as this. We strode through the crowded streets towards the Bishop’s gate. From what we had learned the inn lay close to the northern wall and backed on to St. Helen’s Priory. In a perfect world we would have spent a day or two watching the building to identify all the entrances and exits but we did not have the time. From what we had learned One Eyed Waller was gaining power. The mayor had almost confirmed that even though he did not know the identity of the criminal who ran his city. That was not a surprise. If this man had come from the Holy Land then he would have learned to deceive and to hide behind others. The name made my senses tingle for there had been a knight, Fitzwaller, who had been in the Holy Land and who had served Robert of Blois, another evil man. Perhaps this sergeant had been one of his men. If so there was a connection to my past.

  Backed by my two largest men at arms I walked as though we were going to the Bishop’s gate. The rest approached from other directions in pairs. I saw the man they had lounging outside. He was the lookout and he stiffened as we neared the alehouse. As we neared the door Henry Youngblood said, loudly, “I hope they still have those horses! I do not relish a long walk north of the wall if they are gone!”

  Ridley laughed, “If they have sold them to another they will have a broken coxcomb for their dishonesty.”

  I joined in the laughter. Our pace was such that it would have appeared as though we were rushing for the gate and I saw the lookout relax a little. I took out a gold coin and when I was a pace away let it slip from my fingers. It hit the ground and rolled a little before it stopped close to the wall of the alehouse. I saw the lookout glance down at it. He was already distracted. I passed him and he smiled at me. I kept on walking. Ridley and Henry made to follow me and when the man stooped to pick up the coin Ridley’s fist smashed into the side of his head and knocked him against the wall. He fell unconscious. Ridley picked up the coin and flicked it to me. I caught it and, as we entered the alehouse flipped it once more in the air. The light from the outside and the tallow lights from within made the gold sparkle. As I had expected it drew attention to me so that my two men could slip inside unnoticed. The alehouse was full. There were girls and women seated on men’s knees. They were working girls. They would be tempting the men to go with them to their beds and part with hard earned coin. Not all of the men in the inn would be criminals; most would be but not all. I saw the men drinking in pairs examining me. I looked like a visiting noble with too much money looking for a whore. Most went back to their drinking. I saw one girl try to disengage herself from a potential client. I was a much more lucrative prospect. I had a gold coin. I would not smell as badly as the man who grappled with her to pull her back to his knee.

  I smiled and continued to flip my coin. I spied Gruffyd who was in the corner. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. His hand was on his short sword. I saw one of the whores go to a back room and call to someone. I continued to walk slowly towards the trestle table where the beer barrel stood. Two men came out of the back room. From the eye patch I guessed that one was One Eye Waller. He had grey hair but he moved like a soldier. The other was simply muscle. The only man in the room who was bigger, Ridley the Giant, had slipped into the inn behind me and now hid in the shadows. One Eye Waller was smaller but still well-muscled. I saw he had a short sword at his side while his muscle held a wicked looking cudgel. The criminal Lord of London smiled and, as he approached, gave me an exaggerated bow. I saw the muscle out of the corner of my eye. He was moving behind me. I was confident that, by now, most of my men would be in the alehouse and I did not worry about my back. That was protected.

  “My lord, what an honour to serve a knight! How may we be of service? Ale or a girl perhaps? More than one? We have young girls if that is what you desire or more comfortable older ladies who have learned the art of love and know how to please a man.”

  My spurs, good armour and sword all marked me as a knight. The fact that I had entered such a low establishment told them that I was seeking female company.”

  I flicked the coin high in the air and his eye followed it. I was able to draw my dagger unseen. I smiled as I watched his eye follow the coin. I caught it and slipped it into my purse. “You are One Eye Waller?”

  Suddenly he was a different man. I saw a sergeant at arms. His hand went to his sword and my dagger came up to prick his neck. As his muscle stepped forward Ridley and Henry pinioned his arms.

  I said, quietly, “As you can see I am not alone! You have one eye and look to be the man who runs this alehouse so let us dispense with the dissembling. You are One Eye Waller! And, my friend, I would like your hands up in the air so that I can see them. I will not lose a moment’s sleep if my hand slips and I slit your throat.”

  He swallowed and blinked his eyes. “You have the advantage of me, my lord. You appear to know my name yet I do not know you nor understand why you threaten a poor innkeeper.” The whore who had fetched him linked her arm in his and hugged him.

  From behind me I heard a sound like a piece of wood hitting another and then Padraig’s voice, “My lord did not say you could leave so wait until he does before you try to move.”

  One Eye Waller’s one eye flicked from side to side as he took in the men who had suddenly appeared. He raised his head, “My lord, you do not know what you do here. If you wish to live then withdraw!”

  “You misunderstand me, I am Thomas, Earl of Cleveland, and I need to stay here for I am the rat catcher who will cleanse London of the disease that is…”

  I got no further for the whore h
ad drawn a dagger and lunged at me. I was wearing mail and a gambeson. The tip caught in the mail links but her intervention was enough to make my left arm move away from Waller’s neck. He wriggled away, pushing the whore towards me. I pushed her out of my way for Waller had drawn a sword. The inn erupted as his gang rose, almost as one, to draw swords and try to get to me. This was not an even fight. Although they outnumbered us my men wore mail. Even so the brigands went for faces and hands which were unprotected by metal.

  Waller swung his sword at my side. I fended it off with my dagger as I brought my sword in a sweep. It was the wrong strike for the alehouse was filled with bodies and my sword caught on the leg of a table. Waller reached into his boot to pull a second dagger. I did the only thing I could do. I kicked hard and my boot connected with his groin. His face showed that I had hurt him. His doxy rose and clung to my leg. One Eye Waller turned and began to push his way though the mêlée. Sheathing my dagger, I knocked the whore from me and hurried after Waller. I held my sword before me and that saved my life. As I stepped through the door which led to the back an axe swung towards my middle. I punched with my sword and took the force from the axe which merely rasped against my mail.

  I stepped into the back room. Behind me were the sounds of sword on sword and the cries of those wounded or dying. My men would be ruthless. They would not risk their lives for brigands. As I did so I saw that there were piles of coins there. Waller pulled back his arm to swing at me again. I saw that he was an old soldier for he held the axe as a weapon and not a tool. He was balanced and it would not do to underestimate him. As the axe came towards me I picked up a handful of the coins and threw them at his face. He continued his swing but there was not enough force behind it. I leaned back and the head tore through my surcoat. This had to end. I rammed my sword hard towards him. It slid thought his tunic and into his side. I felt the metal scrape along his ribs. Had this been a battle I would have torn the sword sideways but there was not enough room in the tiny chamber and so I pulled the sword out. I grabbed the axe with my left hand and ripped it free from his hands. I threw the weapon behind me.

  “I would not have you cheat the hangman!”

  Blood was pouring from his side and he sank to his knees. “You have done for me!” His one eye glared hatred at me. “You were lucky to leave the Holy Land alive! Have you made a pact with the devil that you have survived?”

  I saw, from the pooling blood, that he would not live to see trial and hanging. “You will be able to ask him yourself soon enough.” I suddenly saw, beneath his tunic, the sign of the Templars. “We have fought before!”

  He could not hold himself up any longer and he lay on the floor. He was smiling, “You and that Swede were lucky then too. You will not enjoy your life, hero of Arsuf, for there are men in this land who are sworn to end your life! There is a bounty on your head.” Before I could ask him more he sighed and died.

  The back door of the inn opened and Mordaf entered. He had a bloody sword. “We have five men here, lord who tried to flee. Three of them surrendered.”

  “Hold them.” I turned as Gruffyd entered. He looked down at the dead man. “Gruffyd, gather all the coin. The King has his first contribution to the funds to rebuild his castle.”

  Picking up the axe I stepped back into the alehouse. Most of the fighting had already ended but there were men who were still engaged in combat. I swung the axe and it thudded into one of the beams which held up the roof. It must have struck a nail for it rang and sparks flew. Dust fell from the ceiling. I roared, “Hold! Your leader is dead!”

  The whore who had tried to save him dropped to her knees and began to weep.

  I turned to my men. “Henry Youngblood, bind the men who fought against us and take them back to the Guildhall.” I pointed to the whore, “Fetch her too! Ridley, I would have those who did not fight lined up here so that I may question them.”

  Even as they began to obey me the whore leapt to her feet and, after spitting in my face, brought her knee up into Henry Youngblood’s groin and then darted out into the street. Henry shouted, “Bitch!” I hoped that my men outside would stop her. They did not! That proved to be a costly mistake.

  As I questioned the supposedly innocent customers I realised that we would not be able to return to Windsor. I waved Mordaf over, “Ride back to Windsor and tell them that the King will stay this night in London.”

  “Aye lord. Gruffyd says that there is much gold in the back room. We found, beneath the floor, a chest with even more.”

  I nodded, “Do not rush back, Mordaf. We will return to Windsor tomorrow.”

  “Aye Lord.” We emptied the inn of all that was of value. I had six men left with me. “Padraig, demolish this inn. I will speak with the mayor and see what can be done with the site.”

  “What about the ale and the food lord?”

  “Take what you want and then give the rest to the people.”

  By the time I reached the Guildhall the prisoners had all been lined up. The mayor, Serio, the King and Sir Robert were speaking with Henry Youngblood. The man who had tried to flee was lined up with them. When they saw me the three men turned expectantly. “Well, my liege, we have the coin to pay for the stone you need. If the mayor can find us the masons then we can begin work.”

  “Are they all captured, Earl?”

  “One escaped.” I walked over to one of the prisoners. “You, what was the name of the whore who escaped?” I saw hesitation. “We will judge you soon. Are you so keen to die that you will not cooperate?”

  “Her name is Morag. She is Welsh. You will not find her. She knows every alley in London.”

  “We will see.” I turned back to the King. “I have sent word that we will stay the night in the Tower. We have much to discuss.” He nodded. “Mayor, these men need to be secured and I fear that this Guildhall is not the place. I would suggest that we retire to the Tower. There we can determine the fate of these prisoners and plan the improvements to the castle.”

  The King showed his increasing maturity. He turned to Serio de Mercer, “The Earl has made a good suggestion. We will fetch the prisoners and you and your council will follow.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  In that moment a precedent was set. The King was no longer a boy. He had become the King. The council of guild masters accepted it and all those around did. The word spread so that the actions of my men were attributed to King Henry. I did not mind for if London was secure and, more importantly, loyal, then that was one less problem to worry about.

  As we rode back to the Tower Sir Robert asked, “Why did your men not suffer wounds?”

  “They did but not serious ones. My men all have a short hauberk. It costs me coin to equip them thus but it is worth it. A new hauberk is cheaper than training a good man and mine are the best.” I saw that the King nodded. He was learning. We headed back slowly for we had a line of men who were roped together. Some had wounds. As we neared the walls of the castle I began to formulate an idea.

  The King asked, “What will we do with the men?”

  “Your father, quite rightly, gave all Englishmen rights. These men have committed crimes but we cannot punish them without a trial. Their punishment? That will be up to you.” I would speak to him privately about my idea.

  The Tower had large cellars. Thanks to the damage done in the rebellion there were two empty ones. I had the men secured there while we set up a court. Sir Ralph Tancraville the constable of the Tower, was keen to make up for the poor state of the walls and he had the servants do all that was required. The King sat in the centre of the table with Serio de Mercer on one side. He gestured for me to sit on his right. He said quietly, “I have never done this, Earl.”

  I smiled, “Nor had I until I became a lord of the manor. You should know that all of your lords have to administer justice on your behalf. If you wish I can advise you.”

  “I would appreciate that.”

  We had the prisoners brought up one by one. We began with the
spy in the Guildhall. The King said, “What is your name?”

  “I protest my innocence, Your Majesty!”

  I interrupted, “Do you have impaired hearing? Answer the King! Your name!”

  “Aymer of Bexley. I am a member of the locksmith’s guild.”

  I nodded to the King who said, “Why were you passing information to One Eye Waller?”

  There was a slight hesitation which I knew meant his next words were a lie. Would the King realise that? “Who, my lord?”

  The King jabbed a finger out, “Address me as majesty and do not lie to me! We will have all the other prisoners brought forth and they will confirm that you were his spy. Do not lie!”

  I was impressed. The King had used the voice of authority. He might have looked like a boy but he spoke like a man.

  I saw the man’s shoulders sag and his voice was no longer belligerent. “Your Majesty, he paid me to tell him if there was danger to him. I was forced to do so for he was a violent man.”

  I leaned forward, “And as a Master Locksmith you could also help him to break into houses and chests!”

  He looked at me as though I was a witch, “How did…?”

  We went through all the prisoners in the same manner and a picture emerged. One Eye Waller was a clever man. He suborned servants or threatened their families. It explained why he had been able to operate for so long and yet remain unprotected. I saw the Mayor and his council shake their heads in disbelief. The lack of taxes was now explained. Local business had to pay protection to Waller and that meant less money for taxes.

  The King turned to me, “Now what do I do?”

  “You punish them.”

  “And what is the punishment?”

  I said, “That is up to you. If you pronounce them guilty then you can determine their fate. They can be executed if you wish.”

  King Henry was not yet a warrior. He had not killed any in battle. He had fifteen men before him. Could he order their deaths?